I Found Your Dog Today…(author unknown)I found your dog today.No, he has not been adopted by anyone.Most of us who live out here own as manydogs as we want, those who do not owndogs do so because they choose not to.I know you hoped he would find a goodhome when you left him out here, but hedid not. When I first saw him he was milesfrom the nearest house and he was alone,thirsty, thin and limping from a burr in his paw.How I wish I could have been you as I stoodbefore him. To see his tail wag and his eyesbrighten as he bounded into your arms, knowingyou would find him, knowing you had notforgotten him. To see the forgiveness in his eyesfor the suffering and pain he had knownin his never-ending quest to find you…but I wasnot you. And despite all my persuasion, hiseyes see a stranger. He did not trust.He would not come.He turned and continued his journey;one he was sure would bring him to you.He does not understand you are not looking forhim. He only knows you are not there, he onlyknows he must find you. This is more importantthan food or water or the stranger who can givehim these things.Persuasion and pursuit seemed futile;I did not even know his name. I drove home,filled a bucket with water and a bowl with foodand returned to where we had met. I could seeno sign of him, but I left my offering under thetree where he had sought shelter from the sunand a chance to rest. You see, he is not of thedesert. When you domesticated him, you tookaway any instinct of survival out here. Hispurpose demands that he travel during the day.He doesn’t know that the sun and heat will claimhis life. He only knows that he has to find you.I waited hoping he would return to the tree;hoping my gift would build an element of trustso I might bring him home, remove the burr fromhis paw, give him a cool place to lie and helphim understand that the part of his life with youis now over. He did not return that morning andat dusk the water and food were still thereuntouched. And I worried. You must understandthat many people would not attempt to help yourdog. Some would run him off, others would callthe county and the fate you thought you savedhim from would be preempted by his sufferingfor days without food or water.I returned again before dark. I did not see him.I went again early the next morning only to findthe food and water still untouched. If only youwere here to call his name. Your voice is sofamiliar to him. I began pursuit in the directionhe had taken yesterday, doubt overshadowingmy hope of finding him. His search for you wasdesperate, it could take him many miles in24 hours.It is hours later and a good distance from wherewe first met, but I have found your dog. His thirsthas stopped, it is no longer a torment to him.His hunger has disappeared, he no longer aches.The burrs in his paws bother him no more.Your dog has been set free from his burdens,you see, your dog has died.I kneel next to him and I curse you for not beinghere yesterday so I could see the glow, if just fora moment, in those now vacant eyes. I pray thathis journey has taken him to that place I think youhoped he would find. If only you knew what hewent through to reach it…and I agonize, for I know,that were he to awaken at this moment, and (if) Iwere to be you, his eyes would sparkle withrecognition and his tail would wag with forgiveness.